You, Me, and Baby
A/n: This series was suggestioned by a reviewer who asked that I put my Ichirukia/baby drabbles in one collection, instead of making each of them an individual fanfic (you know who you are, thanks for the idea!). Before I forget Raijin is a demon thunder god from Japanese mythology, and is not the baby's name. I don't know if I'll even name him. Read and Review please!
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.
War Paint
Propping the baby up on the counter, Renji rummaged through one of the draws in search of a drawing utensil. What was it called again? Oh, right 'eye' liner. Women wore it all the time around the rims of their eyes, but Renji had a more entertaining idea.
He finally found a black pencil with a chalky round tip. Perfect. "Hold still kid," he said, clamping a giant over a mop of orange hair. The baby didn't have eyebrows yet so Renji drew two abnormally long and angular lines above his little blue eyes; which made him look strangely aggressive.
He squirmed and grunted in protest. "Keep your diaper on, damn it!"Once Renji was finished with the eyebrows he began adding other jagged lines, tracing the black pencil across the tiny fleshy space on his forehead and along the border of his hair line.
After that, Renji took a step back to admire his handy work. The fake tattoos were crooked and uneven, and Renji decided that looked sort of like toothy black thunderbolts.
The baby patted his head, grunting and growling as the tickling sensation on his forehead slowly faded. He kicked the counter as Renji placed a pair of too-big, expensive sunglasses over the bridge of his nose.
"Aha!" Renji cried, lifting the baby high in the air. "It's Raijin, the Little Thunder God! May you grow up big and strong enough to kick your father's ass!"
"Renji, what are you doing?"
The sunglasses slipped off the baby's nose and clattered against the floor. Renji whirled around to find Rukia standing in the bathroom doorway, a bag of groceries under her arm.
He blinked. "R-Rukia…what the hell took you so long?"
Rukia shrugged. She was about to answer when she noticed the black lightning tattoos dancing across her son's face; the grocery bag quickly joined the sunglasses on the she didn't say anything, Renji shrugged, twirling the black pencil between his fingers. "Don't have heart attack, you dork. It's just war paint."
"War paint!" Rukia shrieked, snatching her son away. "You put make up on my baby's face!" Fuming, she shoved past him to the bathtub, twisted the silver knobs, and let out a flood of hot water.
Renji scratched his head. "I don't get it, what's the big deal? It's not like I used it in a girly way. I think the Little Thunder God looks kinda cool."
Rukia glared at him. "It looks like he has some exotic face eating disease, Renji," she said. "And don't call him that. Ichigo will kill you if he finds out. I should kill you for this!"
"Ichigo can kiss my ass," Renji muttered. He was an uncle, God damn it, and uncles like him were supposed to have special privileges for this kind of stuff. The baby screeched as Rukia scrubbed his forehead with a wet wash cloth, but the black stuff wouldn't come off. At last, she gave up. "Renji, which pencil did you use?"
Renji gave it to her and in return received and an even deadlier glare. "Renji," she said lowly. "This is waterproof."
"So?"
"You used waterproof eye-liner to put fake tattoos on my son. If Ichigo sees that his son looks even somewhat like you, whom you have dubbed Raijin of all things, he'll kill you."
The threat hung in the air like a nasty smell. Damn it, she was right. Ichigo and his egotistical, fatherly pride. Little Ichigo's were supposed to look like Big, Stupid Ichigo's instead of Little Raijin Thunder Gods.
Uncle Renji tossed her a bar of thick yellow soap. "It comes off with soap, right?"